


Frustrations

by baileyflailing



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Idiots in Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Wayhaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:29:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29847081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baileyflailing/pseuds/baileyflailing
Summary: Detective Carena Hale has had a bad day and doesn't have the best coping methods. Enter Adam "900 years of repression" du Mortain. Things get emotional and their stubborn off continues.
Relationships: Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Adam du Mortain
Kudos: 11





	Frustrations

Sweat dripped down Carena's temple, her neck, her back. Her knuckles were sore, beginning to feel raw and chafed even through the wraps she'd carefully done up before her workout. She was overdoing it. She knew. But she was just so angry and frustrated and a million other emotions she didn't want to process right now. She felt entitled to a little recklessness given all that she'd been through in the past months since Unit Bravo had arrived in her life. Or maybe even all she'd been through in the years before that. She hit the bag hard in frustration. She didn't want to acknowledge all that. She didn't want to think. She'd just wanted to take her frustrations out but no her thoughts wouldn't quiet down no matter how hard she fought. 

She tried to lose herself in the rhythm of her workout. But she'd been at it for hours. She was getting tired and distracted. She was only human after all. 

The thought just made her all the more frustrated at her own inability. She was human. Except she had crazy mutant blood that it seemed was only good for getting her into more trouble. Sure it gave her some immunity. But what good was that when a supernatural could snap her like a twig? What good was that when people depended on her to protect them? What good was that when her blood had made her, and therefore those she cared about, a target? What good was she? 

Spiraling as she was Carena didn't hear the doors open. She didn't notice the vampire standing there with a frown, hand still gripping the door handle in indecision. She didn't see Adam making up his mind to close the doors and venture closer to her. She didn't even notice him until her arm was stilled by a firm but gentle grip. 

She reeled on him, startled and annoyed at the interruption. When she saw it was Adam holding her arm back it did nothing to calm her racing thoughts and the pounding of her heart. Her breathing was as harsh as the words she spat out at him, not in the mood for his confusing presence, "What do you want?" 

Adam stared at her. He was no doubt taking in her disheveled appearance and spoke in that ever commanding tone, "That's enough, Detective." 

Carena scoffed, tearing her arm from his grasp and turned back to face the punching bag. But when she moved to strike it again Adam stepped bodily between her and it, causing her to stumble back at his sudden proximity. She let out a frustrated sound somewhere between a growl and a huff but Adam just stood firm and repeated, "That's enough." 

She could only glare up at him in response. He may have towered over her and he might be a vampire but Carena was reckless even on a good day. And this was not a good day. 

She shoved him hard in the chest and was satisfied that apparently the move had been unexpected enough that the powerful man in front of her stumbled a slight step back. There was shock for a moment on his face before his usual mask returned and somehow she felt both elated to have broken through his control and enraged that he was able to shut himself off again so quickly. 

"Get out of the way, Adam." 

"No." 

She shoved him again but this time he didn't move. Didn't react. She balled her fist in anger. Of all people it just had to have been him who found her in this state. They infuriated each other. He kept everything so tightly controlled and she wore her emotions like an open book. He was all rules and authority and she'd spent her whole life trying to break free of what people wanted. Yet what had she become? 

A detective, like her father. Working for the agency, like her mother. Things just kept running in her blood that she didn't want any part of. 

And Adam. They hadn't gotten off to the best start to put it nicely. They still argued more than they got along. They should be everything the other couldn't stand. Yet she cared for him. And she hated it. Of all the people why did it have to be him? Why did his rare smiles and even rarer laughter mean so much to her? Why was it that when they did agree she felt like they could take on anything if they did so together? Why did he make her chest ache every time he stood too close. Every time he looked as if he was going to acknowledge this thing growing between them but instead turned away. He always turned away. And she was sick of it. Sick of wondering, sick of waiting, sick of being pulled back and forth between hating him and l- 

And-

Oh.

Oh, crap. 

She loved him?

"You've practiced enough for today." His somber tone broke her free of her racing thoughts. Snapping her back into reality where he stood so close and yet was unreachable. To her stinging knuckles and aching limbs. Back to the reality in which he would never willingly show her what he felt or what he wanted. Where he had shut her out every time they'd gotten close. 

The realization snapped something inside her. And because she was reckless she lashed out. She shoved him weakly, then hit him in the chest. Once. Twice. Until he grabbed her wrist and she tried to shove him away but he held firm. She wished he'd bruise her, so she might hate him, but his grip was as gentle as ever and his icy green eyes held only concern. And that was so much worse and any blow. 

"That's enough, Carena." 

Hot tears flowed down her cheeks and she grit her teeth. She hated the way her name fell from his lips. Like he cared. Like she was something precious to him. His brow was creased in worry and sympathy and confusion. He'd released one of her wrists without her realizing it and had brought a hand to her cheek. Hovering as if he wanted to wipe away her tears but didn't dare allow himself to touch her. As if she might break. As if she could be any more broken. 

His frown deepened, "You aren't broken." 

Had she said that last part aloud? She must have. She'd balled her free hand into a fist, gripping his shirt, and pulled him closer, "Then stop treating me like it." 

Her let out a small breath at the motion, almost a gasp. Their eyes bore into each other's searching for something. Neither knew what. When her eyes fell to his lips he closed his own eyes and repressed a shiver. The animosity was gone and in its place something just as familiar had appeared between them. Longing.

She studied his face. His closed eyes and clenched jaw as he fought himself to regain control. And she suddenly realised how tired she was. Not just from her workout but from this thing between them. This dance they did. 

She sighed, carefully placing a hand on his cheek. Adam's eyes snapped open at the gesture but she just smiled ruefully up at him. And before he could pull away, before he could shut her out again, she removed her hands from his face and his grip. And she walked out of the room. 

She didn't look back because she didn't want to see his face then. She knew how it felt every time he'd pulled away from her. She didn't want to see if her walking away had the same effect. She didn't know if it did would be better or worse than if it had no effect at all. 

For all the times she'd wished to see him without a mask, she didn't look back the time she managed to take his mask away. She didn't see the feelings written so clearly on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry?


End file.
